


Reality Check

by 0Rocky41_7



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 22:04:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0Rocky41_7/pseuds/0Rocky41_7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Several years after bringing Erik to the Opera house, they've grown much apart. Antoinette returns to tell Erik something, but he's taken this situation in his own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reality Check

Antoinette knew she was pushing her luck, coming down this far. But somehow the silence between her and Erik felt so…wrong. It kept pressing at the back of her mind, more often of late pushing itself into her foremost thoughts. So here she was, dressed in one of her old Sunday dresses, creeping down through the cellars. She had reached the water’s edge when she heard it.

That voice…it was so beautiful…like the chorus of a thousand archangels…indescribable. Antoinette’s eyes glazed over and her muscles went slack, the candle slipping from her hand to be smothered by dirt and cold stone. And yet, she did not take notice: her eyes were fixed on the lake, hearing only that voice, seeing nothing before her, except obstacles to her getting closer to that voice. She walked closer, closer, but not close enough! She had to be closer! She had to find the source of that angelic, inhuman voice! All other thoughts were driven from her mind as the voice lured her into the water, for she had realized that this was where the voice was coming from. She let her head go under the frigid water’s surface and strong tentacles bound her, pulling her under…

                Black spots swam before Antoinette’s eyes. She sat up and was violently sick on the icy stone floor. She was sopping wet and had only a dim memory of what had possessed her to dive into the lake.

“I must be going mad,” she muttered.

She lay back on the stone and closed her eyes, her head throbbing, her throat sore, every muscle in her body throbbing. She suddenly was aware that she was not alone, but before she opened her eyes, a soft gloved hand brushed over her throat, her collarbone, brushed her soggy curls off her forehead.

“Oh, Antoinette!”

A mournful, slightly exasperated, regretful sigh caressed her ears. She decided to play unconscious and see what happened. Erik must have had some plan when he lured her into the water.

“Why can’t you forget?” Erik whispered. “It would be better for both of us if you forgot.”

He reached a thin arm under her legs and another under her back and easily lifted her into the boat.

“But I can’t leave you here,” he murmured. “I won’t have your death on my conscience. But you should leave. Best if we both stopped this farce, which we know can’t continue.”

He reached out for his pole, and began to push the boat along with long, sweeping strokes. She felt the boat bump on the edge of the stone ledge, and she knew they’d reached the other side. Erik lifted her with the same careless ease as before and laid her on what felt like a couch. He set her arms at her side, and as he pulled away, she could feel his grip tighten on her, almost angry.

“But why? Why should she be made to forget?” he hissed to no one. “Why can I not have a girl in my home? Like any other boy? Why can I not speak with her in public, and sing for her, and touch her without it being thought a crime?”

Antoinette felt a minuscule breeze as he strode away, she could practically feel his anger growing, and suddenly she wished she hadn’t gone and pretended to be asleep. But now her eyes were heavy with sleep, and they’d been closed so long, she could feel her mind growing foggy with sleep. Unable to keep it at bay, she surrendered to the dark nothingness. She woke later, the rooms beneath the ground booking no time, and saw that once more, she was alone. She stood up, a bit shaky at first, and began to walk around and look at Erik’s place. It had changed, matured since she had last been here.

That’s when she heard the voice again. So silky and soft and alluring, it resonated all around her, filling her ears and making her close her eyes with the pleasure of hearing it. It sent chills down her back and arms.  Her whole body went rigid, listening and it was then that she registered the gentle caresses of a gloved hand on her collarbone. She opened her eyes and the dexterous black hand crept up to her cheek. She could feel Erik behind her; hear his voice in her ear, so tender and beautiful. Her heart seemed to be galloping so fast in her chest; it was as though it were trying to jump out. She could feel her cheeks heating up, and she looked at her feet. Erik swiftly moved in front of her, and tipped her face up to look at him.

“Don’t cast your eyes so low,” he said. “They’re too pretty to see only the ground, and your shoes.”

Antoinette knew it was ridiculous, but goose bumps broke out on her skin as he brushed her cheek with the back of his hand.

“Erik,” she said faintly. She had had an idea of what she wanted to say, but in the moment, all thoughts fled from her mind.

“Shh…Antoinette,” Erik smiled at her. “You’re safe now, my dear, quite safe.”

“I…I wanted to…” Antoinette couldn’t remember exactly what she’d wanted.

Erik pushed a lock of brown hair behind her ear and slid his arm down around her waist, pulling her closer. She felt lightheaded, and she was sure she was blushing furiously. But Erik only smiled serenely down at her.

“You look lovely, Antoinette,” he said smoothly.

“I look half-drowned,” she murmured, but the sting intended to go with her words failed.

“And may I point out: a woman never looked so good half-drowned? And I am sorry about that, I thought you were someone else.”

Antoinette just nodded, speechless. His voice, that damnable voice! She was sure it had never been like this before. No, this was a recent development; acquired only when his voice lost that child high pitch.

“You’re blushing,” he said.

“I know,” she whispered.

“It looks nice,” he said. And then he swooped down and kissed her. On the mouth.

Fire burst in Antoinette’s veins and heart, flooding all her senses, sweeping every other thought or half-formed idea from her mind. Her soul cried out in song. Yes, yes, yes! She wanted only more of this! Her lips burned and she went limp in Erik’s embrace, losing all semblance of self-restraint. When at last he pulled back, his blue eyes were shinning and from what she could see of his face, it looked like he was blushing too.

“What now?” she asked breathlessly, still dizzy with the effects of his voice and his kiss.

“Now I give you this,” Erik said, offering her a simple ring, one he’d no doubt pilfered from some poor wretch in the Opera.

But the sight of the ring brought Antoinette back to her senses with a cold slap of reality. She pulled away from Erik sharply, turning her face away so he couldn’t see the tears stinging her eyes. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if she could hold herself together that way. Everything was ruined! Why? Why now? Why after all these years?

“Erik, I came here to tell you something,” she said, her voice husky, barely withholding tears.

“What is it, Antoinette?” Erik asked, sounding terribly worried. He walked over and put a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. She could feel his hurt as if it were a tangible thing.

“I-I,” She took a deep breath. “I’m engaged.”


End file.
